


Regrets

by RageAgainstTheNormal



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mental Instability, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Suicide, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6792523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RageAgainstTheNormal/pseuds/RageAgainstTheNormal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fighting ended, after the dust had cleared and the prison broke, Steve was faced with reality. He was a criminal, broken-hearted, and struggling to stay composed. Tony was erased from his life in minutes, and Steve hated it. He loved him, even if Tony didn't love him back. But when Tony calls one day, crying and intoxicated, Steve can't say no. Memories resurface, the pain returns, and the so-called 'strong' captain crumbles when Tony does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This is why we can't have nice things. Or nice ships. (And I don't help with sad stories, I know. Just cry with me.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or the characters. Only the story. 
> 
> Warnings: Suicide, Major Character Death, Implied Smut, Implied Drinking/Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Possible Triggers, etc.

> **"You broke my heart, but I still love you with all the pieces."** \--Anonymous.

* * *

 

No regrets, Steve Rogers would sometimes tell himself. But recently, there were regrets everywhere, and times where he wished others would admit they were wrong, because he simply couldn’t regret his actions. Peggy passed in her sleep, and Steve regretted not speaking to her more. She was the love of his life in the past, so why did he not spare enough time to be with her? Secrecy and none other than Tony Stark. When fighting over the UN ordeal started, Steve regretted again. Not for not signing it, but for spending too much time away from Tony, for letting him turn bitter again. His Pepper was gone, stress was crushing all of the Avengers because of him, and Steve did nothing. He regretted that, not being able to do anything to save Tony from his mind, his thoughts, his drinking, or even the death of Tony’s parents. But most of all, Steve regretted not only not telling Tony why his parents died, but he regretted fighting him.

Steve couldn’t help it. He told himself that, yet it still hurt. The fight was painful, bloody, and left a bad taste in his mouth. The blonde’s mind had been in fighting mode—to protect Bucky, to protect himself, to _stop_ the damn fighting and conflict. But, it still hurt. The pain in Tony’s eyes, the tears from seeing who killed his parents, and the utter betrayal in his expressions that tore Steve to pieces. Steve didn’t want to shove his shield into Tony’s arc reactor. He didn’t want to hear the gasp of pain leave Tony’s lips, or to hear the painful words leave his lips. Though, Tony had been right. The shield wasn’t his anymore. He was a criminal now, a murderer, and he had hurt the man he ended up loving.

The love came slow, at a painfully slow pace. And much like the pace, the love itself was very painful. Tony had loved Peggy, everyone knew that. It was genuine, no matter how much they bickered or she would leave. But, when she did leave, Tony would go to Steve. Drunk and crying, the millionaire would collapse in Steve’s strong arms, letting Steve whisper sweet nothings into his ears, and run his fingers through dark locks. Kisses would be feverishly placed everywhere, arms would hold, fingers would touch any place allowed, mouths would whisper and say sweet things, or let out sounds that drove them both farther. Breath would be stolen, hearts would swell, and drunk, Tony would either forget it all, or deny it happened. And god, did it hurt. Steve knew it happened, Steve knew what Tony said, but most of all, he knew Tony didn’t want it to happen. Steve was used to heartbreak by now, but it still hurt worse than anything else. Peggy had hurt, Bucky had hurt, but Tony ripped his heart to shreds and slivers. It was only natural that the fight would eventually happen, and it was only natural that Steve would come to have an imaginary shard in his hard while Tony had a real one. And out of everything, it was only natural that Steve would have to leave, to barely see Tony again, and to have to hurt him before he left. The note he sent was rushed, as was the plan to give him a cellphone, but Steve still had priorities. Though he loved Tony, and couldn’t deny that, he had to save his friends first.

Clint had a family, children and a wife to return to. Not a cell to be trapped in. Scott Lang, though Steve didn’t know him well, probably had a life to return to. So many of his friends were trapped in those cells, with lives to return to, with people they loved waiting for them. The operation went smoothly, and the letter seemed to have at least done something. As pathetic as it seemed, Steve was almost hoping Tony would be sent in, or would come to meet him. Even if Tony came to try and stop them, hearing his voice would have been enough. Tony didn’t come, Tony didn’t call, and Tony didn’t send any letters. It was silent, and life as a fugitive wasn’t the best. All of them were fugitives now, and the guilt hit even worse. Clint wouldn’t be able to see his family again except for brief meetings, considering the police did daily inspections of his family’s home. Even though Captain America, the ex-loved hero got them into the mess, they all stayed by his side, helped establish a home underground, a secret base that no one could find. Steve still hurt, no matter all of this. The imaginary shard was still in his hard, sleep was a rare thing, guilt made his stomach churn, and the so-called ‘respected’ Captain was slowly but surely crumbling with imaginary boulders on his shoulders.

 

* * *

 

 

It was just over a year after the prison break out when Steve had almost given up, had almost actually repressed his feelings, and had actually been able to eat a meal without worrying if it would stay in his stomach.

The blonde had actually slept that night, chest heaving and falling peacefully with sleep, eyelids twitching as a signal of dreams hitting him. It was peaceful in the bunker, everyone relieved that their Captain was indeed sleeping, even if it was in one of the main living rooms with papers in his lap, and a cell phone still clutched in his hand. It had become a habit, holding the cellphone or checking it to make sure it was charged and there were no messages. Even though Steve didn’t know how to use it well, Clint had no problem explaining it to him in simple terms, with minimal snickering from Scott and Wanda. It was almost sad to see, though. Steve hadn’t even been around his shield as much as this, or even pictures of Bucky and Peggy. Of course, no one said anything. Bucky didn’t hesitate to give Steve some looks of concern, though. Steve didn’t reply, Steve didn’t say anything—he just held the phone all day and night.

No one expected it to ring.

* * *

 

But, on that day, a sound broke through the air. It was a shrill ringing, making Bucky drop the pen he was holding, Scott to jump awake from his nap across the hall, and Steve to shoot up in his chair, fist tightening around the ringing device. The phone… was ringing. Steve’s eyes flickered from the phone to where Bucky was standing, before the soldier’s voice snapped at him.

“It’s been a year. It’s okay, just pick up the phone. You know how to, right?” Bucky would ask hesitantly, eyes flickering over his friend’s seemingly shocked face.

Steve was indeed shocked, hesitating and standing in silence, simply letting the shrill ringing resonate in his ears. No one else had the number, not even annoying Teleprompters. It _was_ Tony Stark, and the blonde didn’t know if he could even calm his heart enough to answer it. Taking a deep breath, the male would, almost shakily, start to walk away briskly, fingers hesitating around the top of the flip phone. He had almost forgotten, almost pushed it away—then Tony called. Emotion was already swelling in his chest, causing his stomach to churn, but Steve flipped open the phone anyways, blue eyes glued to the wall in front of him as he swallowed thickly. “Tony?” Steve would murmur, his voice sounding strange even in his own ears. It sounded sad, frantic, and worried. Steve didn’t like it, to say the least.

The other end of the phone was silent for a moment, before shaky breathing could be heard. “Steve,” Tony would say first, and Steve’s stomach would do a flip, his free hand reaching out to press against the wall, stabilizing himself. “She’s gone for good, Pepper. She came back six months ago, said I was drinking too much, and then left.”

The more Steve thought about it, the more noticeable it was. Tony was indeed slurring, and his voice was shaky. Crying and drunk, most likely. The imaginary shard in Steve’s hard was growing just by hearing Tony’s voice. Memories of sweet kisses, sweet words; they all came flying back to him in seconds. His own emotions were so wrecked, and it had only been ten seconds into the phone call. Should he be happy that Pepper was officially gone? Sad that Tony was drinking again? Cheer? Cry? Laugh? Instead, Steve was silent for a moment, before finally speaking. “I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

The reply was a weak, heart shattering sob mixed with a laugh. “Yeah, I was expecting that. It sounds really sad when you apologize in person, Cap. Shouldn’t you be yelling at me for my ego? For not apologizing until now?” Steve hesitated. Until now? Tony didn’t apologize much, what was this? “I was really an arrogant ass, you know? She also left me because of another thing. She found this goddamn picture I had on my phone,” Tony started, laughing weakly. “It was of us. The last night we were together? I pretended to forget that night. I’m really an idiot. I should have let myself enjoy the memory, not feel guilty, and broke up with her then.”

Steve felt the breath leave him. Tony remembered? Pepper knew? But, enjoying the memory? And breaking up with her? “Tony, what are you saying?” Steve asked, voice strained with emotion. He cried lightly when Peggy died, but hell, he could feel the height of stinging liquid in his eyes already arising. Why did Tony do this to him; break him down, build him up, then smash him to pieces again?

“I’m saying I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry for pretending to forget, brushing off those nights, and ignoring you. I miss you, and everything hurts s _o goddamn_ much. I really did enjoy those nights, you know? I can’t even touch you now. You probably hate me now, don’t you? I was so horrible to you.” Steve could hear a sob then, and sounds of metal. His breath was gone, his chest hurt, and his knees felt weak for once.

“No, no—God, I don’t hate you. Tony, it’s—it’s okay.” Steve said in a rush. What was he doing? What was happening? Mind and stomach a mess, Steve gripped the phone even tighter, heart racing. Everything stung. Was this all a lie? Another drunk, slurred lie from Tony? Steve didn’t even know what to say, what to do. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, but his body felt like it was sinking, along with his heart. He missed the touches too, he missed the nights too. Steve would probably give anything to take Tony in his arms again, hold him and brush away these god awful tears.

“Steve,” Tony would say, voice choked, filled with the sound of tears and held back sobs. “I really did mean what I said back then. I love you.”

Steve couldn’t take it. The emotion came rushing back, and the male gritted his teeth, a weak sound leaving his own lips. How long had it been since he succumbed to the tears? They were hot down his cheeks, dripping from crystal blue eyes. “I love you too, Tony. So much,” Steve would say in the midst of a sob, restricting himself from placing a hand over his lips. How long had he waited to hear those words again? How long had it been since he even heard Tony’s voice?

But, Steve wasn’t done, or anywhere near, done crumbling yet. There was a sound of a click, a sob, and the blonde’s heart sank even deeper. That was a beer bottle, right? That’s it?

“Steve, I-I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. It hurts, it hurts so much. I can’t be with you, Pepper’s gone, my life is crumbling—Please don’t forget me. I love you, god, I love you.” The voice was heavy with Tony’s sobs now, and Steve froze.

“Tony, what are you doing?” Steve asked in a rush. Those words were horrifying. “What do you mean you can’t do it anymore? You can always visit, you can be with me—Please, listen to me,” Steve said, voice almost in hysterics. What was this feeling? It fucking hurt, it stung—his heart was aching and dying, his lungs felt full of water, and his body was weak. He didn’t want to admit he knew what those words meant. If anything, it was Tony officially ending their behind-doors relationship, right?

“I love you, Steve.” It was silent for a moment, Steve couldn’t move, and then the worst came.

The sound of a gun went off, the phone fell silent, then a thunk was heard, and static. The phone beeped, signifying the end of the call, but Steve was still frozen.

A gun. A thud. A dead phone—no, a dead person. The shard pushed in harder, and his body trembling, Steve yelled. The yell was painful, loud, before his body hit the ground, and fist tightened around the phone to the point of cracking and glass pressing in his skin. The pain was indescribable. He had felt this once before, when Tony fell from the sky. But now, now—his death was confirmed. Tony Stark, the love of his life, was dead. Steve’s vision spun, his stomach churned, screams left his lips, but no sound came to his ears. His head was against the wall now, everything was trembling, and people were rushing towards him. Steve couldn’t care, didn’t care—none of it mattered. It didn’t matter that tears were streaming freely down his cheeks, it didn’t matter that screams continued to leave his lips—it didn’t even matter that Bucky was yelling at him, that everyone was asking what was going on—Steve was numb. He couldn’t feel the glass in his hand, but he could sure as hell feel the pain in his heart and mind. There would be no more kisses, no more soft touches from the rough hands he loved, no more kind brown eyes focused on him, no more sweet words, no more breathy sounds that he loved, no more warm arms around him, no more teasing from Tony Stark—There was no more Tony Stark. The panic Steve felt was like none ever before, and no matter how much he screamed, even to the point of it being silent and having being lifted to his friend’s arms, Steve couldn’t calm down. He could only murmur frantic hoarse words, before going into silent fits of sobs and letting his built body rack with sobs again.

“I love you too, Tony.”

“Tony, why the hell did you do it?! Why did he do it?!”

“It was my fault, wasn’t it? I caused a lot of deaths, the UN was right.”

“He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone…”

“Fuck.”

“It hurts, it’s burning, please, Bucky, end it. Make it stop hurting! Bring him back to life, dammit!”

The night wasn’t silent. The week wasn’t silent. Clint had been hit hard by his friend’s death, and his other friend’s hysteria. Wanda was in tears. Bucky was struck hard from Steve’s hysteria. The Avengers, as of that day, were disabled and left only in history books, names scratched down to tell the history of Captain America and his groups rebellion, Iron Man’s suicide, and propaganda of how; ‘Captain America—the evil soldier killed Iron Man and set up suicide?!’ was passed around. It was hell, and everyone was living it. Thor had even eventually gotten word, and had went silent. Loki and Iron Man—Thor felt that he had lost both. Everyone was crumbling slowly, but Steve was shattered. Captain America, Steve Rogers—he was never the same. Steve regretted it all. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry with me on Tumblr; @Levi_Friggin_Ackerman or leave me criticism or love below. c: 
> 
> Kudo's, Comments, Feedback, or even angry yelling is always appreciated! Thank you for taking the time to read! I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> (P.S: I've never written from either of these bby's perspectives below so feel free to yell at me, leave tips, etc. I can write some mad Thorki though. -Insert Molester Moon Face Here.-)


End file.
